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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722637">True Self</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22'>Wolfcry22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autism, Autistic Castiel (Supernatural), Awesome Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel is Loved (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Overstimulation, Protective Dean Winchester, Sensory Processing Disorder, Stimming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:14:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has been seeing his boyfriend Cas for a couple months now and is crazy about him. So what if he does things a little differently and has his preferences? However, when Cas’s brave facade begins to crumble, it is up to Dean to show Cas the love and acceptance he never had.</p><p>College AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Let Me Be Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a story that I wrote a while back as therapeutic for myself more than anything else. Then I thought that if I could relate to this, then maybe someone else could. </p><p>This is based on my own experiences and everyone on the spectrum is different, so this experience may not line up with everyone’s, so please don’t be too harsh. This was difficult to write and post, but I felt that it was important not only for myself, but many others out there that had an upbringing like mine. I’ll explain more at the end so that I don’t ruin the story.</p><p>Warning for some strong language, brief mention of blood, and neglect.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Trauma is personal. It does not disappear if it not validated. When it is ignored or invalidated the silent screams continue internally heard only by the one held captive. When someone enters the pain and hears the screams healing can begin”- Danielle Bernock</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> “Cas? Cas!”</p><p>    Dean walked down each isle in the large Barnes &amp; Noble that he found himself him. Truthfully he couldn’t remember the last that he came in here; maybe once with Sam to buy him books for school, but other than that, Dean generally avoided it like the plague. He was pursuing a mechanics certification at the local community college after taking a few years off from high school and really had no need to come in there anyway. The only reason that he was in here now was because of a very special man.</p><p>    He had met this shy man at the local coffee shop a couple months back. Dean had accidentally spilled his coffee on the man’s table and he thought the man was going to have a heart attack right then and there. Dean had been quick to clean it up and had even offered to buy the man another cup of coffee just in case Dean’s spilled one had tainted it with his. He was stunned when the man said that would be great. Dean had muttered something about sarcasm before realizing that the man still thought he was serious. So, one thing had led to another and that was how he had spent nearly 2 hours talking to him.</p><p>    Dean had learned that his name was Cas and he was majoring in business administration at the state school just down the road. He was fairly reserved and seemed highly organized if his color coded notes were anything to go by. His appearance was the complete opposite with ruffled hair and a backwards tie. Dean had decided not to comment on it and secretly kind of liked it. It hadn’t taken long to find out that Castiel was gay and Dean being a closeted gay himself, had decided to test the waters and ask Cas on an actual date that didn’t involve each other bumping into one another accidentally. Cas had agreed and the rest was history.</p><p>    Dean loved spending time with Cas and really loved all things Cas. He was difficult to understand and had his own way of doing things that Dean was still trying to learn, but that was part of his appeal. So what if Castiel was particular about somethings such as where they went or what he liked to eat? It didn’t bother Dean that Castiel enjoyed routine and liked to stick it or that he preferred to spend time in his dorm room than Dean’s apartment. None of that mattered to Dean and he really didn’t think about it too much until now.</p><p>    They had just stopped at the Barnes &amp; Noble after dinner at their favorite spot. Unfortunately, their usual spot was also where most of the college kids had decided to come to watch the football game. What had turned into a dark and quaint place had been filled with the cheers and screams of patrons that had a little too much to drink and fueled by passion for their team. Ordinarily Dean would’ve been excited to join in, but one look at Cas told him that his boyfriend was becoming anxious.</p><p>    Dean had quickly asked for the check and offered for them to go back to Cas’s dorm. However, Cas had requested that they stop at Barnes &amp; Noble for some book about beekeeping or something. Dean had decided it was best not to ask too many questions and had driven Cas there. They split up when they got inside with Dean checking out the vinyl music while Cas looked at the nonfiction books. Dean had spent 20 minutes with his stuff until he decided it was best to seek out Cas to make sure he was okay. </p><p>    The only problem was that Dean couldn’t find him.</p><p>    He had checked every isle twice and even asked one of the associates if they had seen him. They had said they hadn’t, and Dean felt he was back to square ones. That was when he decided to check the restroom, which was the only place that Dean hadn’t checked besides the car. While it seemed like an obvious place to search, Dean knew Cas’s aversion to them. He never used a public restroom nor the one at Dean’s place. He only liked to use his that was attached to his dorm that he only shared with one other person, who was never there. It was unlikely that Castiel was in there, but Dean had searched everywhere else. This was his last resort.</p><p>    Dean leaned on the door of the mens’ room, hearing whimpers coming from within. “Cas,” he questioned, stepping inside.</p><p>    What he saw chilled Dean to the bone.</p><p>    There was his boyfriend, pacing from one side of the bathroom to the other. His eyes were wide, terrified, as he mumbled to himself. He slightly rocked back and forth as he paced while his hands were pulled into almost claws, only to be extended and retracted back while they hovered first over his ears, and then over his shoulders, and down back at his sides, only to reach back up to his ears and repeat the entire process over again. His eyes blinked almost robotically, teeth sinking into his bottom lip deep enough almost to draw blood. Tears streaked down his cheeks and Dean wondered just how long this had been going on for. </p><p>    “Cas,” Dean repeated as he took a step toward him, hand outstretched.</p><p>    Cas immediately drew back from Dean, breaking the line of pacing he had been doing. It took him a moment before he continued, giving Dean a wide berth in case he tried to reach out to touch him again. </p><p>    “Cas!”</p><p>    This time Cas lifted his head deliberately when he heard the frustration behind his name. It reminded him of something long ago that made his heart ache in his chest and throat grow thick with emotion. When he looked up he saw Dean standing in front of him, eyes wild in shock. “H-Have to,” Cas ground out.</p><p>    “Have to?” Dean looked at his movements before nodding. “Okay, that’s alright. You do whatever you got to do, okay.”</p><p>    Cas was more than surprised by his response. “Trying.....to.....be......quiet!”</p><p>    Dean took a moment, shrugging. “If you need to make noise that’s okay too.” He quickly headed over to the door and locked it so that no one would come in. He headed back over to Cas, careful not to impede on his space again. “This good or do you want me to stand further back?”</p><p>    “F-Further.”</p><p>    Dean could tell that it was becoming more and more difficult for Cas to speak and decided that he wouldn’t be able to get much of a response from him for much longer. </p><p>    “Alright, I’m going to stand by the sinks. Just give me a sign if you want me to leave.” Dean crammed himself in the corner of the sink, sliding down so that he was sitting on the floor. It felt strangely sticky and he decided not to think about why that was the case.</p><p>    Once Cas was given the all clear from, Dean so to speak, he allowed his body to give into the sensations that it desperately caved.</p><p>    His right hand started to flap at his side while his left curled into a fist. He struck it against his thigh a few times while he resumed his pacing. When that wasn’t enough, he brought his arm around his mouth and bit down hard, a wail sounding in the back of his throat. All of the frustration and sensory overload from dinner spilled into now and he was unable to bottle it any longer. Fresh tears pooled from his eyes until sobs shook his shoulder and he released his arm from his mouth, tasting salty blood in the back of his throat.</p><p>    Suddenly, Cas ran full force into the wall in front of him, using the momentum that propelled him back to run in the opposite direction. He repeated this process a few times, hand still flapping until he sunk down into the corner of the restroom, still sobbing. He slammed his open palm a few times against the cement wall until a wave of exhaustion rushed over him and made his limbs feel heavy and numb at the same time.</p><p>    Dean crawled over, careful not to overwhelm him by rushing up to him. “Cas? Can I come closer,” he requested, keeping his voice soft.</p><p>    Cas glanced up and realized that Dean was still there with the same intelligent green eyes and freckled face. He gave a small nod, unable to speak.</p><p>    Dean smiled and brought himself beside Cas, sitting beside him. He didn’t reach out and touch him, but he did crane his head over to see the small beads of blood that leaked from Cas’s arm where he had bit down. “I can clean that in the sink if you want? Only when you’re ready, though.”</p><p>    Cas didn’t say anything, eyes trained in front of him. His gaze seemed clouded and listless, mouth slightly gaping. His body was still rigid, body scrunched together in a way that looked very uncomfortable to Dean. He wasn’t about to question it at the moment, though, especially if Cas wasn’t feeling up to it. That was okay. Dean could wait.</p><p>    After about a half an hour later, Cas closed his mouth and rubbed the sleeve of his trench coat against the corner of his mouth, smearing some of the dried blood. He turned back to look at Dean almost questioningly as if he forgot Dean was there. </p><p>    “Hey, sweetheart. You alright?” Dean wasn’t one for cute pet names, but he decided he could make an exception if it soothed Cas.</p><p>    Cas blinked his eyes tiredly, a fist coming up to rub at his left eye. “M’sorry.”</p><p>    “You don’t have to apologize.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck subconsciously. “Although, I would like a bit of explanation if that’s alright.” He didn’t want to make things worse on Cas, yet he thought that he was owed at least something. Owed may have been a strong word—perhaps requested was a better way to look at it.</p><p>    Cas hung his head, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him. “I didn’t want this to happen,” he mumbled darkly.</p><p>    “What to happen?”</p><p>    “This.”</p><p>    “Us sitting on the floor of a sticky mens’ bathroom? Yeah me either.”</p><p>    Cas snorted in amusement. “No, not that. The meltdown.” He spat the word like venom on his tongue, body shuddering at the mere thought of it.</p><p>    Dean tilted his head curiously. “So that’s what you call it. I always just used to call them sensory overloads.”</p><p>    “Sensory overloads?” Now it was Cas’s turn to look at Dean in interest.</p><p>    Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Um, my brother has sensory processing disorder and when he gets really overwhelmed he kind of reacts a little similar.” Dean looked down at his hands. “In fact, he called me the other day when one of his lights went on in his multicolored lamp he has in his room. He was stressed due to finals and that just sent him over the edge.”</p><p>    Cas looked down at his hands, beginning to rock again. “So, you know?”</p><p>    “What do I know?”</p><p>    “T-That I have an autism spectrum disorder.” Cas swallowed thickly. “That I have autism?”</p><p>    Dean’s head bobbed back and forth while he contemplated what to say. “Well autism spectrum disorder and sensory processing disorder are a little different. Although, I thought you may have something.”</p><p>    “Then why not say anything?”</p><p>    “Because I wanted you to feel comfortable enough to tell me.” Dean’s patient gaze managed to meet with Cas’s rapidly flickering gaze. “There was no point in me forcing it out of you. What I don’t understand is why did this happen?”</p><p>    “Sometimes when I get overwhelmed with stimulus—“</p><p>    “No, I get that part,” Dean interrupted. “Yeah I get that. What I mean is that I’ve never seen you stim like that before. In fact, I’ve barely seen you stim at all, which is fine if you don’t want to. I just thought that you would be comfortable enough around me now to know that I wouldn’t judge you for it.”</p><p>    Cas pressed the back of his head against the cool concrete. Another couple of tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped from his chin. “Not allowed.”</p><p>    “Not allowed? How do you figure that?”</p><p>    “M-My mother.” Cas’s voice was bitter, angry. “She never let me stim. She would always tell me to stop embarrassing her and act more ‘normal’. She would yell at me if I flapped my hands or rocked when we had company and they were talking to loud. She would hit my hands if they curled into a fist or glared at me in a store when I grabbed at my shirt. She wouldn’t let me wear bracelets or rings to fidget with and she would always call me a baby if I chewed at my shirt collar. So, I tried not to do any of those things and tried to act like everyone else.”</p><p>    Horror stretched across Dean’s features. His blood boiled in rage. “What the hell, Cas?!”</p><p>    Cas immediately flinched and Dean lifted a hand to his mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m not mad at you.” He let out a deep breath before continuing. “Cas, that’s fucked up. I mean, those things help you and it’s what you need to do. Screw anyone who’s uncomfortable by that. If you need to flap your hands, flap your hands. If you need to rock or hum or do whatever else you need to do as long as you’re not hurting yourself, go for it! You won’t see me stop you unless I can do something to help or you ask me to.”</p><p>    “It wouldn’t bother you?” Cas let out another heavy sniffle. “If I stimmed when I was with you? I wouldn’t embarrass you?”</p><p>    “Hell no! I mean, everyone fidgets. So what if you have more obvious ones or you have to do it more often? You shouldn’t ever be ashamed of that.” Dean looked down and reached out a hand to graze Cas’s. Cas froze and Dean drew back. “Sorry.”</p><p>    Cas took a deep breath before reaching out and gripping Dean’s hand, hard. He looked over to him and sniffled. “Thank you, Dean. I-I’m sorry about all this.”</p><p>    “You don’t need to apologize for this, Cas. I’m just sorry you had to go through this because you thought I would be embarrassed or leave you.” Dean brushed his pointer finger lightly over Cas’s knuckles. “Although, I do have to tell you one thing.”</p><p>    Cas blinked the last of the tears from his eyes. “What?”</p><p>    “If I ever see your mother, just walking around, I will give her a piece of my mind.”</p><p>    Cas nodded vigorously. “Please do!”</p><p>    Dean and Cas laughed, enjoying each other’s company. This wasn’t the date that Dean had originally planned, but this seemed so much better. He had got to know Cas better and finally saw past the wall that he so often put up. He now saw that Cas was trying to protect himself from those that would judge him and make him feel less than because of how his brain worked. It was clear that Cas had been hearing that his entire life and had been conditioned to believe it. Dean didn’t even want to think what could’ve happened to Cas if he had stayed home and wouldn’t have went to college. This had to be an escape for him from his bitch of a mother.</p><p>    “How about we get that arm cleaned up and then we can get out of here? Maybe go to my place and watch a movie,” Dean offered quietly.</p><p>    Cas bowed his head tiredly. “My place,” he requested.</p><p>    “You got it.” Dean hopped to his feet gingerly before reaching down toward him. “Anything for you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Christmas Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cas’s first Christmas with Dean and Sam leave him a little wary because of his past. Luckily, he’s able to find who his true family could be and who accepts him for who he is.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter, left kudos, or commented! I appreciate every single one of them. This was a hard story for me to write, but I felt it was very important and I hope that it came across in writing. The second chapter isn’t overly long, but I think that it rounds off the story well. </p><p>Reminder that autism and sensory processing disorder are a spectrum, meaning everybody in different in how they handle certain things and even what stimming behaviors they express. I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean dug into his present, ripping the paper open. He let out a gasp of excitement as he pulled out the record player, setting the massive box beside him. “A new record player. Thanks, Cas!”</p><p>    Cas bowed his head. Dean’s old record player had been on the fritz for a month and Dean had complained that he wanted a new one. Cas had picked one out online and had it shipped to them in time for Christmas. He had hoped that Dean would enjoy it and it seemed like he did.  </p><p>    The idea of having Christmas with a tree, decorations, and bright lights was not appealing to Cas in the slightest. All he could think about was the Christmases he had experienced when he was younger with people everywhere and an uncomfortable, itchy Christmas sweater that his mother made him and all of his siblings wear. They would then travel to three different houses and to church where he was forced to eat weird food, and was only supposed to speak when spoken to. Cas had learned to loathe the holiday, so when Dean said he wanted to have Christmas with him and Sam, Cas had been against it. Dean had sweet talked him into a small celebration at Dean’s apartment even though Cas had been unsure. </p><p>    However, once he had gotten settled and met Sam for the first time, Cas was sure that it wouldn’t be so bad. Sam was nice enough, and because of his sensory processing disorder, Dean and Sam had everything down to a science of what Sam could handle, which aligned marginally well with Cas’s own needs. </p><p>    The tree was silver instead of green with lights turned on low and the decorations were just on the mantle. They had a couple ornaments on the tree and each one Sam liked to touch for a different reason. One was a red ball with silver raised swirls. Another was gold and as soft as a pillow. There was one with fake fur that looked like Dean had made it. In fact, all of them looked like either Sam had Dean had made them for one sensory need or another. Cas found himself drawn to the tree now and liked touching the different bulbs as much as Sam did.</p><p>    Dean had made sure to wrap the presents in plain wrapping paper without too many colors and designs that would give Sam a headache. Cas enjoyed seeing each present look nearly the exact same. It made him feel better about the presents that he had brought for Sam and Dean, even though he didn’t know Sam.</p><p>    Cas had gotten Sam a Barnes &amp; Noble gift card since he knew how much Sam liked to read. He also got him a briefcase to carry when he became a lawyer. The last thing was the code to get into Cas’s building in case Sam needed Cas for something or couldn’t get ahold of Dean. The eldest Winchester was spending more and more time in Cas’s dorm room and Cas thought it was best that Sam felt as welcome as Dean did in his room. It was a big step for someone that Cas didn’t actually know, but Dean talked about his brother all the time and Cas had decided that he liked Sam solely based on the stories.</p><p>    This was an enjoyable Christmas for Cas, and he was looking forward to the Santa Claus movie marathon that Dean had promised them.</p><p>    “Oh, I almost forgot!” Dean jumped to his feet and stretched out his hands toward his brother and Cas. “Stay right there!” He took off in the opposite direction with a skip in his step.</p><p>    Cas wrinkled his nose as he turned to look at Sam, who was cradling a pillow that he could run his fingers through and change the sequins from one color to another. Cas had tried it like Sam did, but his fingers had seemed to vibrate after he was finished and he had quickly deemed that he didn’t enjoy it.</p><p>    “Did you have a good time,” Sam asked.</p><p>    Cas nodded surely. “This was much more enjoyable than any holidays I spent with my family,” he announced.</p><p>    “Yeah, Dean told me about what your mother used to do. What kind of a women wouldn’t let her child stim if she knows it will help and that it’s important?” Sam rolled his eyes. “That just proves that some people are straight up dicks.”</p><p>    Cas couldn’t argue with that. “Did your parents ever get embarrassed of you?” While Sam didn’t have autism, he did have problems with textures, tastes, smells, and sounds just like Cas did. He needed to stim just as much as Cas did and could have meltdowns and shutdowns too.</p><p>    Sam let out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “It was just my Dad and Dean. My mom died in a fire when I was a baby. My Dad thought I was an oddity and didn’t like me stimming. Luckily, he wasn’t home a whole lot, so it was just Dean and I and Dean completely understood. My Dad never tried to stop me, but he really didn’t give much of a damn anyway. I guess that’s a long way of saying that I know to a certain extent what you’re going through.”</p><p>    Cas dipped his head. “It seems we are both lucky to have Dean in our lives.”</p><p>    “Indeed.”</p><p>    “Here we are!”</p><p>    Both Cas and Sam jumped when Dean arrived back with a delicately wrapped shoebox. It wasn’t his best wrapping job, but Dean was proud of it nonetheless. “Here you go.” Dean sunk to his knees before sitting cross legged and pushing the box closer to Cas. “Go on, open it!”</p><p>    Cas looked at the box and started to unwrap it cryptically instead of ripping it open like Dean and Sam did with theirs. Cas folded the paper back and lifted the top off the shoebox. Inside he found an assortment of items that peeked his interest.</p><p>    “You told me that your mother never let you stim and so I thought that you may like some things to try here along with your flapping and rocking.” Dean rummaged into the box and brought out a bright blue ring that spun at the center. “This is a spinner ring.” Dean set it aside and picked up a black pendent that was circular with small grooves and seemed very pliable. “This is for you to chew on. I know that you like to gnaw on the inside of your shirt collar or the tip of a pencil, but this is actually meant to chew.” Dean set it down and brought out a spiky and squishy stress ball. “You can squeeze it or feel it if you need to sometimes.” Dean dove back in and brought back out a few bracelets that were made from phone cords. “You can move these around on your wrist or count the paw prints on it. I know how much you like animals.” </p><p>    Cas’s mind was spinning at seeing all of the stim toys. In fact, he was becoming a little overwhelmed by all of his options.</p><p>    Sam seemed to understand and leaned forward to nudge Dean against the shoulder with a fist. “Dean, I think that you can wait to show Cas everything later.”</p><p>    Dean’s eyes nearly bulged from his head when he saw how Cas was humming and rocking forward in an attempt to calm himself. It was mostly out of excitement, but it was also nervousness.</p><p>    “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” Dean leaned forward so that Cas had to look at him. “You want to try one of them now? Just one?”</p><p>    Cas looked around wildly before choosing the spinner ring and black chewable pendent. He thrust the ring over his thumb and began to spin it with his pointer finger of his opposite hand, feeling the smooth surface move the center of the ring and heard the slight zip sound it made. The pendent he stuck in his mouth and felt his molars clamp down hard. It was much more enjoyable than gnawing on the collar of his shirt or picking at his own skin. Gradually, he began to calm himself with the help of those two objects, muscles relaxing and breath calming.</p><p>    Dean tucked the rest back into the box, tapping the top. “We can go through it later. That sound good, Cas?”</p><p>    Cas gave a nod. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>    “You don’t have to be sorry. You only have to be you.” Dean extended his hand, allowing Cas to push it away or take it.</p><p>    To Dean’s surprise, Cas took his hand and pulled him forward, ripping the pendent from his mouth. He pulled Dean into him so that their lips crashed together. Dean was so stunned that his eyes remained open through their kiss until his body melted into it. Cas bent his head, allowing Dean easier access as their kiss deepened. </p><p>    It wasn’t until Sam cleared his throat loudly that Dean pulled back, rubbing his pointer finger under his mouth. “Uh, ahem. Just thought Cas may be choking.”</p><p>    “So you put your lips on his?”</p><p>    “Yeah to check.” Dean willed a hole to open in front of him and swallow him up so that he didn’t embarrass himself any further.</p><p>    Sam couldn’t help but snicker. “You two are so cute, you know that.”</p><p>    Cas gripped Dean’s hand tightly, feeling himself melt against him. There was a time when Cas thought that he was unlovable and that he was a burden to everyone around him. He had been conditioned to think that he had to be alone and without any support because of how he was. It wasn’t until he met Dean that he realized that he deserved love just as much as anyone else. So he was a little different, who wasn’t? </p><p>    “I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered into Dean’s ear, still twirling the spinner ring on his thumb as he waited for his boyfriend’s response.</p><p>    Dean didn’t hesitate to place a light kiss on Cas’s forehead. “I love you too, Cas. I always have and I always will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was such an important story for me to write. I hope that came across. As a society we are constantly talking about acceptance and understanding, and I know that we’ve made great strides, but we do have a long way to go. Education is the first step and an important one that people need to take. </p><p>There are a lot of stimming toys and fidget objects that people can use like those that were in the story. It’s all about personal preference and finding what the person enjoys for certain times and certain emotions. I really enjoy spinner rings myself since they’re generally quiet and not as noticeable, but that is all up the person and what they’re comfortable with. Some people chose not to use them and that is 100% okay too.</p><p>Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoyed! It means the world to me when people say that they enjoyed what I wrote since it can be nerve wracking to post. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me say this once for the people in that back......</p><p>LET THOSE WITH AUTISM STIM</p><p>I would shout that from the rooftops if I could. It is damaging to try and forcibly stop a child or an adult on the autism spectrum not to stim. Trying to guilt them into acting ‘normal’ is not helping and I say this from experience. Stimming is helpful and necessary to help regulate emotions or deal with sensory overload, anxiety, and stressful situations. Most stims are not harmful to the person or others, yet that doesn’t stop parents and other family members/friends from often discouraging it because of embarrassment or shame.</p><p>I wrote this story for everyone in this boat. I know what it’s like to try and suppress it only to have it bubble to the surface like what happened with Cas in the story. So, if you struggle with this then know that you’re not alone. I hope that everyone enjoyed this story and are staying safe and healthy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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